


Viola sororia

by fire_ash_rebirth



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Carol Remembering Things, F/F, Flowers, Fluff, Make Them Gay You Goddamn Cowards, Memories, Minor Injuries, Violets, Wounds mentioned vaugely and in passing, i'm SOFT, they're lesbians harold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_ash_rebirth/pseuds/fire_ash_rebirth
Summary: Carol remembers a day in the sun with her beloved
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Viola sororia

**Author's Note:**

> i am SOFT for these two  
> also, violets are gay  
> Carol is gay  
> Maria is gay  
> they're in love, and i'm gonna write about it

The memories came back in pieces, hazy scenes half-remembered on the cusp between dreaming and waking. Intangible enough to slip through the cracks when Carol grasps for it, and just tangible enough to barely brush against her fingertips as a reminder of what was lost. The heart-wrenching state of knowing that there’s something out there, but not knowing what it is. 

Still, they did come back. Fragmented, out of order, out of context, but they did come back. And as soon as they were within her grasp, Carol held onto the memories that she could with a vice grip. 

The memories did not, however, come back at times that were convenient. Two week long quiet journeys could pass with mind-numbing boredom and no new memories to be found. Yet now, as Carol lies half-unconscious after taking a blaster to the stomach, surrounded by strangers in a strange land, she remembers. 

The sun is soft on her skin, and the breeze carries with it the promise of far off rain. The ground is radiates warmth back at the sky and the grass tickles the underside of her knee. Distantly, Carol knows that something is crawling across her foot, but she’s too content to move. Her eyes are closed, but she feels certain that if she were to open them the sky would contain the kind of wispy clouds one could spend an afternoon watching drift by. 

Someone else’s fingers comb through her hair and massage her scalp. A leg is pressed against her side and Carol realizes that she’s laying someone’s lap. She takes a breath, and the other person smells like summertime and plane engines. The smell is what finally slots this memory in place; it’s Maria. 

It’s Maria’s hands tangled in her hair, Maria’s legs around her chest, Maria’s lap cradling her head. The fingers are removed from her hair, and Carol mourns the loss, voicing her displeasure with a soft grumble. Soon enough, Maria returns her attention to Carol’s hair, twisting and turning strands around what Carol assumes are flowers based on the stems that poke her scalp, and violets based on the scent that joins the rain and the grass. 

It isn’t clear how much time passes, but Carol assumes that it does. Eyes closed, she lies beneath the sky, above the ground, in the lap of the woman she loves, with a crown of violets atop her head. She is warm, she is loved, she is at peace. 

Even though the scene fades, even as the warm sun and soft breeze are overwhelmed by the cacophony of yelling and the smell of burned flesh, that peace stays with her. Carol calls out for Maria, though she can’t hear her own voice to know if she spoke aloud. A cool hand brushes across her forehead, and she imagines it belongs to her beloved.


End file.
